


Forward

by deedeeinfj



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 19:58:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8340793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deedeeinfj/pseuds/deedeeinfj
Summary: Ye Olde London Fic





	

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here is my obligatory London fic, since I had somehow managed not to write one yet.

Phryne paced the small, modest lounge area of Jack's hotel. She wouldn't be surprised if he refused to see her, assuming he wasn't out booking the earliest return passage to Australia. Not an hour before, she had been in the parlor of her parents' house, on the arm of a duke, laughing. Accepting his kiss. Saying she looked forward to seeing him at dinner. She had turned, and there was Jack, his hat in his hands, his heart - she imagined - on his sleeve.

"Jack," she had gasped, the duke forgotten.

"Forgive me for intruding, Miss Fisher," Jack had replied. He set his hat back on his head. "I left my card with the butler. I'll show myself out."

So Phryne found herself at his hotel, clutching his card. She had bent it and twisted it so much that it was rather ragged now, the scribbled address barely legible.

No one had hinted to her that Jack had taken her at her mad, impulsive word and had come after her! Nothing could have prepared her for the warmth that suffused her when she saw his face, immediately followed by the cold dread of what he must think. Jack had an unattractive jealous streak, to be sure, but on this occasion, having followed her around the world at her request, he was justified.

"Miss Fisher."

She turned at the sound of her name in his long-missed voice. He wore the same casual trousers and jumper from before, but he had left his overcoat and hat in his room. There was no pomade in his hair, which had been trimmed just enough to spare some shorter curls at his forehead.

She crossed the few paces between them and almost reached to straighten a tie that wasn't there. "Is this a phantom, or are you actually Jack Robinson?"

Jack held his hand palm-up as if testing for rain, a smile crooking his lips. "No sand falling from above. I stand before you flesh and blood."

His sharp intake of breath was all she heard as she stepped into him and pulled him close into her arms, her face in his neck. "Oh, Jack."

"Phryne," he said, a rumble. His hand cradled her head to him.

"I'm sorry about earlier."

"Sorry? For what?"

She tilted back to look at him. "You traveled all this way, and there I was with... I wasn't expecting..."

"I traveled all this way for Phryne Fisher. And it seems I found her."

Clear, blue eyes roamed over her face for a moment before falling to her lips. Jack lowered his head, and Phryne eagerly met him halfway. Thoughts of his kiss on the airfield had kept her company for many nights, but still she had somehow forgotten what a sweet drug could be found in his mouth. She slid both hands up his chest and curled her fingers in the soft material of his jumper.

"Come to dinner tonight," she said. "My parents will be at the theatre."

"What about that other poor fellow?" he chuckled.

Phryne rolled her eyes. "He doesn't care a whit about me, nor I about him. We flirt for our own mutual amusement. The moment you left, I told him I had to cancel our plans."

"I don't want you to feel obligated."

"You silly man." She stroked her fingers over his temple. "It's you I want, Jack Robinson."

They kissed again, gentle tastes of each other's lips, until a woman nearby cleared her throat quite pointedly.

"Tonight, then," Jack said, his arms full of her and his eyes full of promise.

"Bring an overnight bag."

Jack tilted his head. His familiar dry smile teased at his mouth. "That's rather forward of you, Miss Fisher."

"Miss Fisher is a forward woman, and you did say you traveled all this way for her," she grinned.

"I did," he acknowledged with a nod, releasing her from his arms. He held on to one of her hands as he stepped back, and his thumb traced her knuckles. "Best decision I ever made."

"8:00," she said.

"Or you could join me now."

A loud, surprised laugh escaped Phryne, and her hand flew up to cover her mouth. Recovering quickly, she met Jack's amused eyes and said, "I'm not equipped for such an assignation at the moment, Inspector."

Jack slid his hands into his pockets. "There are different types of... assignations."

Jack Robinson, having freed himself from whatever ballast had held him down, was bold and even more enticing than before. Phryne's heart hammered. Jack was fully hers now, she understood. Hers to tease or please or love or break. His coming after her - this surrender of himself, at last - was in itself a kind of power. Jack was _liberated_.

She took a steadying breath. "Such as?"

"Such as kissing you for the first time with no one watching."

"Oh, is that all?" she asked in her most careless falsetto.

Jack moved a little nearer, his eyes piercing hers. "No."

Phryne nodded slowly. "Lead the way, Jack," she said.

Jack had selected an inexpensive but comfortable hotel, and his small room was clean and pleasantly furnished. These were the observations of but a few seconds, the time it took Jack to close and lock the door, for then Phryne found herself once again in Jack's arms.

He held her jaw and neck in one large hand, his long fingers splaying around her ear and awakening every nerve ending there. His other hand rested on the small of her back and tugged her close.

"Well, Jack," she murmured, "no one is watching."

"Except you," he said, invoking the gaudy night that had never been, and she knew it was intentional because she knew him.

He stroked his fingertips lightly over her neck and leaned to kiss her. She had expected him to be urgent and desperate now that he had her alone, but it was just the opposite. With no violent ex-lovers or impatient fathers or prim hotel guests looking on, he was taking his time, relishing her, delighting in her. His pace allowed her to do the same, and there was so much to relish about Jack, so much to delight in.

"I want to look at you," he mumbled against her lips.

"Yes."

"I want to touch you."

"Please, Jack." Phryne reached for his hand on her back and guided it around to her breast, pressing it against her.

"How can I undress you if I can't stop kissing you?" he asked.

She smiled as she arched her body into his hands. "You could always wait until after dinner tonight."

"Like hell, Miss Fisher," he growled.

She felt positively giddy with excitement and happiness as they undressed each other. When Jack knelt to remove her garters and slide her stockings down her legs, leaving kisses along the way, she smiled down at him, ruffling his hair with her fingers. She smoothed her palms across his bare shoulders.

"You've always wanted to do that, haven't you?"

He looked up at her. "Ever since you pulled out that damned knife in the bookstore." He set her foot on his thigh and kissed her knee. "And you knew it."

"You could have done, you know," she pointed out as he stood and set his hands on her hips, drawing her bare skin against his. "Long before now."

One of his hands wandered up to cover her breast, and he circled the flat of his palm over her nipple. "No," he said, sliding his fingertips down the center of her sternum. His eyes on hers were dark with desire and heavy with meaning. "No, I couldn't have, Phryne."

She nodded her understanding. "I haven't been with anyone, you know. Since I left."

"It wouldn't have changed anything," he said. "That man I saw with you earlier - I never gave it a second thought."

"Must have been a long voyage," she said quietly, somewhat overcome.

"It has been," he said.

Phryne pulled back, took his hand, and led him to the bed.


End file.
